


Dimensions

by UnholyHelbig



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies), Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Multi, National City (DCU)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 03:41:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15039926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnholyHelbig/pseuds/UnholyHelbig
Summary: Beca Mitchell is anything but normal, but what happens when she meets Chloe Beale? A fast-talking, awkward personal assistant who has secrets of her own?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this actually started out as something completely different. And it's more of an integration than an actual crossover with the Arrowverse. But hopefully, you guys like it!

**HER FEET**   **PRESS**  roughly against the glistening pavement, breath short as the cold nipping air bit at Beca's fingertips. It was shocking to her whole body, her throat sharply damaged as sweat collected close to a heaving chest. Nothing about the chase was a chore for the young brunette though.

The man was just a silhouette in front of her was slinking like a cat morphed from the shadows. He was meant for this- a hired man paid to keep secrets and steal them from other people. It made him good at his job, but not fast. Not fast enough to outrun the little bodyguard that struggled to keep her nose from running.

Air moved against a silken sky, feet echoing off of alleyways as the sounds of faraway sirens bounced off of her ears- mouth dry but not impossible. Despite the chill that lies in the air, she felt a deep heat buildup along her core, a fire that licked and prodded close to her fingertips as the man in front of her skidded to a stop, breath uneven and heaving.

He reminded Beca of an eel. His hair was slicked back and shirt sweat-stained, the man close to twice the size of his pursuer. He was clutching the documents like his life depended on it- maybe it did at this point. Beca never dug too deep or asked why in the hell someone would steal from a company this big. Instead, she just did her job. No questions asked. Just like he was doing.

A rough punch was thrown, a right hook that pressed so painfully against the inside of Beca's cheek. Her ears were ringing, a metallic taste filling her mouth as she drew in a sharp breath- close to being pushed over the edge as she whipped her deep cobalt eyes back up to his.

She pressed her fingers against the man's leather collar, shoving him hard against the wall as her knee flew up to hit him where it counted. It wasn't the easy way out, not to Beca. It was an upper-hand that somehow made it easier to attempt to grasp the files back. Part of the girl wanting nothing more than to count her losses and just head back into the direction of .

Instead, she kept her temper in check, well as much as it could be with blood dripping from her nose and onto her cotton shirt. "And people wonder why I stick to black." She snarled, eyes flashing with pure anger.

"get off me, you freak!" The thief hissed himself, breath rancid as it filled the smaller girls lungs like trash left festering on a hot day.

"I don't think we should resort to name-calling here." She pointed out, "I have quite a few for you if you don't give me back those fucking files."

She almost liked teasing him, he was under her thumb, and all things considered, she refused to leave here without those papers. They were important, important enough to be stolen in the first place and that spoke wonders- even to someone who didn't' care much about the place she worked for.

Again, that rough heat rose in her chest. It was something more than pure rage, or adrenaline that would form in the speed of the chase. No, it was deafening, clawing at her throat as she kept her focus so intently on the man in front of her. He gulped, sensing the change in atmosphere.

"Alright, alright." He shoved the files against her chest, "No hack-job is worth this bullshit."

"Good man," She patted the side of his face as her other hand enclosed against the documents. She pondered calling National Cities Finest on the criminal, but ultimately decided against it. Why draw more attention to herself? Even if it was just for some random papers she refused to look at.

Beca took a step back, the soles of her shoes were loud as the man raised his hands to rub the raw spot on his collarbone where here grasp had been. He watched her carefully- but not careful enough. The smaller woman had no problem with her movements as she brought her own fist against his cheekbone, a dull and overpowering ache rushing against her knuckles.

"Shit," She shook out her hand, not ready for the impact it created. "Consider us even."

**SHE WAS STIFF** , every part of her aching as she dropped the papers on the woman's desk. She didn't' grasp her attention quickly- instead, the taller blonde kept her focus on a heated phone call. It didn't' sound pretty, but Beca knew she didn't' have the right to walk away. Not yet.

Instead, she leaned heavily against the desk, trying not to pay attention to the large wall of electronic televisions that outstretched behind the piece of furniture. It was distracting, but there were so many headlines that needed to be seen. It was easier this way, Beca new that.

"No, I don't care about your fucking agenda. If you send another one of your goons into my office than he'll leave choking on his god damn testicles. Are we clear?"

Beca swallowed back a laugh as she looked at the blonde. She looked anything but angry through her words leaked poison. Everything about Gail Abernathy was captivating in itself- the way she carried herself was enough to earn her a multi-million-dollar company and a badass status that would send any journalist quaking in their boots. Beca was different though, palming a glass paperweight that gave her a bit of comfort to fiddle with- even if her hand ached.

Midnight eyes scanned the office in front of her- it was mostly white; two-paned glass doors surrounded a white couch and a little table set up for alcohol. Beca never understood an office without privacy, but while she looked at the bustle of Barden from the quiet of this area it became more apparent.

She was so intent on glancing at the way the company worked she hadn't heard Gail set down her phone- much less get up from her leather-clad chair and sit next to her. The scent of expensive perfume filled her lungs as she cocked a brow and looked at the woman.

"Please tell me that wasn't your recipe for lasagna or something?" She cracked a joke, knowing that Gail didn't find the purple bruising gracing the side of the girls face amusing.

"No, of course not." She averted her gaze as she stared back out at her empire. "It was baked ziti."

"Damn," Beca cursed "I'm glad I could protect the legacy of the Abernathy's famous Italian delicacy."

Gail scoffed, shaking her head as she finally turned her attention back to her employee. It was her idea that Beca channeled her pent-up energy into something more- something like the job as head of security. Even if it was a bit unconventional. The job was easy for Beca, swiping badges not as normal as chasing after people on foot.

"You got close tonight." It wasn't really a question. It was a statement, one that made Beca's chest tighten with a bit of anxiety. She never knew how Gail could figure that out in less than a few seconds.

"How could you tell?" She asked instead, voice ragged.

"It takes a lot out of you, Bec's. It's not the same as it used to be." She shook her head "I could tell the second you stepped in here."

There was a silent nod instead. Beca didn't' like talking about this, about the feeling that prickled behind her eyes and built up like uneven rage. It was uncomfortable, even after all of this time. Instead of objecting, Beca stared back out into the deep abyss that was Barden. There were even more televisions pressing above employee's desks, one single white glossed table sitting so close to Gail's doors- a dorky woman with flaming red hair glancing up every once and awhile as Beca walked in to talk to the boss.

That very woman was knocking softly on the door- an echoed sound that rescued the small brunette from an even more difficult situation. Gail let out a deep sigh and waved the woman in, walking back over to flop down into her desk chair. The easy-going part of the woman's façade out the door.

Chloe looked nice- she always looked nice, awkward, but nice. She was sporting a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and a white spotted button down, the pattern so subtle that it was barely noticeable. She had on olive green jeans with a black belt to match those very glasses that clouded blue eyes. Bright blue eyes that made Beca stand up from her position leaning against the desk.

"Callie, speak," Gail said as Beca stepped aside, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's uh- actually," The girl fidgeted, even with two years of being this woman's personal assistant, the girl still couldn't get the confidence to correct her. "I mean I-"

"If you're going to say something say it now." The blonde didn't' look up from her papers, instead, she stuck the blunt end of her ink pen into her lips, chewing on the plastic slightly. "I do not have all day for you to pull your confidence out of your ass."

Beca knit her eyebrows together as Chloe cleared her throat, of course, Gail would go on the defensive. Even now, she had an image to uphold. Something the brunette never understood but wouldn't dare question. Gail had to claw her way to the top, she wouldn't retract those claws anytime soon.

"Rebeca," The name that rolled off of Chloe's tongue sent the attention in the room elsewhere. "You looked like you needed ice."

Chloe thrust her hand out, still glancing away as she gained the confidence to even speak to the two women. A slight smile pressed against Beca's lips as she flicked her gaze to Gail for a moment, the blonde woman lifting her chin in amusement as the smaller girl finally grasped the Ziploc bag with the ice. It made an odd sound.

It was true, the bruised knuckles and bloody nose she was sporting wouldn't get her far in the city on the way home. She looked like she got in a bar fight, and technically she had; except without any alcohol, or a bar, but still a pissing contest.

"It's just Beca, actually." The brunette said, pressing the chilled bag to the side of her face as she flinched away from the sudden cold. Chloe either didn't notice or didn't care to say anything as she cocked her head to the side. "Thank you, Chloe."


	2. Chapter Two

**BECA HEARD**  the door slam before she felt it rock through the large apartment- a cool and brutal sweep of air moving against the warm current that the girl was curled up in. She had a knit blanket wrapped around her shoulder- one that she had kept since she was a little girl. It smelled like her in every right, fingers wrapped around the fabric as she struggled to ignore the dull ache against her cheek.

A bag of frozen green beans was on the glass coffee table in front of her, collecting a thin layer of droplets as they thawed out. She had held them close enough to the lesion on her cheekbone before it grew numb and cold to the touch. Now she was just thinking- thinking about what Gail had said and how much exhaustion really wracked her body.

"Shawshank!" The accented voice rang out, Beca pausing the documentary about the cartel that she was balls deep in. She had zoned out through most of it, the soothing voice of the narrator pulling her to a drowsy calm. "We brought take-out."

Beca perked up at that, letting the blanket drop around her shoulders a bit as she stared over at her two friends. They indeed were bringing in large plastic bags that wafted with the scent of Chinese food- the shorter blonde carrying a toothy grin as she set it on the nearest counter.

The loft was a large one; it was an open floor plan, a dull glow moving through the wall of factory windows that was located right across from the front door. This place used to be part of a mill- one that the city converted to apartments instead of tearing it down. It had such a rustic and sleek vibe, one all three girls fell in love with almost instantly.

"Oh, some new battle scars?" Stacie said, the leggy brunette lifting the chain of the door as she slid it into place. She had pulled the edges of her button-down from her brown belt, letting the maroon fabric pool over the leather.

"Did you get pot stickers?" Beca asked, rolling her eyes at her friends looming concern as Amy placed the bags on the counter, quick to shed her jacket from her shoulders. She gave the smaller girl a dark stare. "I mean,  _Hi,_   _how was work_? Did you get pot stickers?"

Stacie scoffed, placing her over the shoulder bag onto the floor as Beca began to pull little white boxes from the brown paper sacks, the scent of soy sauce and rice making her stomach clench in an undeniable hunger. It almost made her feel nauseous.

"Left bag," Amy said, turning her back to the pair as she grasped three glasses from the cabinet. They had a nice routine going, usually, Beca would have dinner made and served at this point, but after the morning she had she called in a favor towards her roommates. "And work was fine, Gail was a lot calmer after you got those files back-"

"Mm," Stacie shoved a snap pea into her mouth as she shoved the rest of the contents onto three separate plates. "We've been working on a way to reinstate failed neurons. There might be more at stake then soma, dendrites, and axons. At least we thought there was more. Some people have-"

The brunette trickled off as she caught a look at the two women who had dumbfounded looks on their faces. She knew that explaining her role at L-Corp was futile. The whole entire company was an exclusive way to improve National city. Only the best minds got a chance at their reinks, and Stacie was lucky enough to shadow one of the brightest scientific minds in history.

"I'm making brain function better." She deadpanned.

"Oh,"

"See, that makes sense," Beca spoke at the same time as Amy. "It's better than getting into fist fights in alleys… I mean, you'd think bad guys would pick a better place to run. Maybe a bath and body work's or something. But it's the same old."

"You want hired criminals to lead you to a soap store?" Stacie passed a plate Beca's way before graciously accepting a glass of water that Amy handed her way, licking her lips at the sight of food after a long and tedious day.

"Well, maybe not a soap store." Beca shoved a fork-full of rice into her mouth as she chewed slowly, revealing in the taste. "Just not some trash coated alley. I never knew this city had so many of them."

"Mm," Amy hummed in agreement as the three girls fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of metal against glass was enough to drown out their overwhelming thoughts- Beca raising her glass to her lips, not taking a sip, but speaking into it instead.

"How's Chloe?"

The blonde stopped mid-chew, cocking her head to the side. The two of them worked at Barden together, Amy was the tech girl, she came into a lot more contact with the spunky brunette than Beca ever did. Still, if the shorter girl made more effort than she would talk to Chloe more than once a month.

"I'm not answering that question," Amy said, shifting her position at the counter.

"What? Why?" Beca squeaked, feigning offense.

"You've been pining for this girl for months now." Stacie cut into the conversation. "Amy is not some Australian watchdog for your love life."

"A dingo."

"What?" Stacie furrowed her brow, waving her hand in front of her face as the shorter woman gulped down some of her water, placing the half-empty cup onto the counter. "Never mind… I just, talk to her."

"For your information, I did talk to her." Beca pointed the edge of her fork at the two, straightening her back. "Today actually. She gave me ice."

"She always gives you ice." Amy pointed out "Which is a lot because you can't stay out of trouble for one damn minute."

"I'm the head of Gail's security detail." She shrugged her stiff shoulders. "If I don't get hurt I'm not doing my job. Besides, I've got a thick skull."

"You're not kidding." Amy scoffed "Shorty, I'm pretty sure Chloe Beale is just some normal timid girl who goes home to a cat after she gets off work. That doesn't change. She's the same every single day. Has been since she started working at Barden."

"Two,"

"What?" Beca asked, knitting her eyebrows together.

"I bet she has two cats," Stacie shrugged, holding up her fingers in a peace sign "Two."


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, so heads up, this one is a super long chapter. It's also a bit of a filler chapter. I have been struggling with creating a lot of backstories and figured that now as a good time to just show you guys how Beca handles a bit of her job as well as other people. But I haven't caught up on Supergirl in a long while- and I also want to let you guys know that it's entirely possible I will stray from classic lore, but I hope you enjoy all the same. AND PLEASE KEEP THE REVIEWS COMING!~ S.

**THE AIR** at Noonan's was always filled with a slight hint of cinnamon. It was a bakery, and Beca Mitchell didn't doubt the warm feeling that hit the core of her stomach every single time the bell above the door chimed in welcoming.

She had been coming here since she was younger- it was on the corner of the street Barden resided in. Half of the time it was filled to the brink with employees trying to kickstart their days- or students from the local high school that wanted to kill some time and some free wi-fi.

Today was a Monday, Beca's face still aching in an ugly yellowed bruise, her lip no longer tasting like a coppery mix of blood and mint. It had only been two days and her body was slowly recovering from her little run in. It still ached- still burned and chided each time she did decide to push herself past the loft this weekend.

She needed this coffee. Beca wasn't the sugar and creamer type of girl, she could take the black tarry liquid right off the burner and chug it until her throat burned and stomach grumbled in protest. But right now- that very scent of caffeine was so enticing that her mouth was instantly filled with saliva.

Beca's phone buzzed haphazardly in her pocket as she leaned heavily against the side of the wall- waiting for the sound of her name being called throughout the café. She wanted to press ignore, not wanting to deal with whatever text lay on the other end.

**Dr. Conrad[** 8:17AM **]**

_Hey Short Stack, Amy is out tonight so the two of us are going to take to the town._

**Beca[** 8:18AM **]**

_Oh, God. It's Thursday, can't I nap on a perfectly good Thursday night?_

**Dr. Conrad[** 8:20AM **]**

_Not a chance. See you tonight._

She let out a groan as her name was called out, causing her to shove her phone into her pocket as she smiled at the young barista behind the counter. Despite being around all that coffee, the woman looked dead inside. The brunette felt her pain and gave her a sympathetic look before thanking her and turning towards the door.

Beca froze, her heart in her throat as she pressed the edge of the plastic lid to her lips. She was mid-sip when she caught a glance at a certain Red Head by the windows. She was busy shoving half of a cinnamon bun into her mouth. Even with the morning just peaking through the horizon she wore a smile. Her deep blue eyes catching Beca's as she parted her lips slightly, lifting an eyebrow towards Beca.

Her feet felt like cement. It would be rude to walk out of Noonan's without saying hi, or at least share a bit of conversation with the excitable woman who was beaming at her from across the room. Beca eventually swallowed her resolve, along with the bitter taste her coffee let behind.

"Callie, right?" She asked, giving the girl a playful glimmer. The girl scoffed loudly and shook her head, wiping the edge of her lip with her thumb, getting the bit of icing and cinnamon away from the corner of her lip.

"That woman hates me," She said, running a hand through her hair as she gestured for Beca to sit down. The smaller girl eyed her, but eventually pulled the other chair out, lowering herself into it with caution. Chloe seemed to respond well to the action, pushing the rest of the sticky cinnamon bun to the side with a gracious grin at the sudden company.

"That woman hates  _everyone_ ," Beca said. It wasn't necessarily untrue. Gail Abernathy was interested in proving herself. She didn't just give manners and respect to anyone that flashed their expression at her. You had to prove yourself to gain some type of kindness from the blonde woman who built an empire out of nothing.

"She doesn't seem to hate you," Chloe said with a bit of spark as she pointed the edge of her fork Beca's way, waving it around a bit.

"Oh, trust me, she does." She brunette leaned back in her seat, taking a cautious drink of her coffee. It burned against her throat and filled her lungs with a thick heat. "Gail just realized that it was easier to have me on her side than against her."

Beca made an odd face as another wave of sweet icing and spices hit her senses. She was the one that was so used to drinking black coffee that was way too bitter for her own good. She had a feeling that Chloe would dump whole cups of sugar into the hot beverage until they formed rough ropes at the bottom of the mug.

"How do you eat that this early in the morning?" She asked, scrunching up her nose.

"Easy," Chloe shrugged her shoulders with a toothy grin as she popped the last bit of pastry into her mouth "I'm an alien."

**THE YOUNG**  woman leaned back heavily in her chair, letting the springs creak and groan against her added weight as her eyelids began to grow heavy. It didn't matter how many cups of coffee she had downed- the day was still dragging along.

Her main focus was on the string that was laced around her fingers. It was a large strand that she had pulled from the hem of her regular black t-shirt. She wasn't worried about the two pieces of fabric falling apart- not when she had a million other shirts like it. Instead- she practiced a game she remembered learning as a child. Cat's cradle.

Beca's stare was desolate as she glanced at the intricate weaving of a tiny thread against pale skin. It reminded her of an obstacle course created by supervillains before the main hero could get to that precious artifact- the one to stop world hunger, or finally shut off a desolate machine that could destroy the world.

Jessica yawned beside her, a little whimper escaping the girls pink drawn lips as she leaned her head against the side of her hand- eyes drooping themselves. It was a boring day- one filled with watching security camera's and making sure everyone who walked through the front door had their badges.

Usually, Beca wouldn't bother herself with this kind of thing- but with Flo taking a leave of absence for the next few weeks to handle some family matters, and Ashley not bothering to get her flu shot this year, she was shit out of luck. Of course, she had more than a couple of people on her team- but none willing enough to actually sit through this torture.

"Stick your hand through here," Beca mumbled, shifting in the leather chair before she was at the very end, she had scooted close enough that she could smell the lavender coming off of her counterpart.

"What?" Jessica finally shot a deep hazel stare towards her boss- the very boss that had her tongue sticking slightly past her lips in an attempt to focus more clearly. She did that sometimes- the badass who could somehow look like a lost puppy in a matter of moments. Still, the taller blonde cocked her head to the side.

"Stick your hand in the middle of this thing," Beca said without breaking concentration, she used to do this type of thing all the time as a kid. If she had strung her cards right then she could untangle the thread in one swift movement, even with Jess's wrist in the middle of it.

The blonde took her bottom lip between her teeth to stifle a laugh at her boss's slack expression. She stuck her hand out, slowly working her fingers through the middle of the little obstacle course before staring at the woman with curiosity.

"Don't cut off my circulation, Mitchell." She mumbled with a bit of malice, but mostly bewilderment. The brunette gave a curt nod as she made one shift yank- a light grunt moving through Beca as her fingers became tangled in the very thread she had pulled.

Jessica drew in a breath as she deadpanned next to her counterpart- utterly annoyed at the woman for playing cat's cradle in the middle of a work day- especially if she didn't exactly know how to execute the maneuver.

"Am I interrupting something?" A deep voice filled the air, a stranger at that. Beca's breath caught in her throat as she pulled back completely, struggling to untangle herself from Jessica as the woman struggled to stifle a laugh. Instead, she bit her bottom lip and rubbed her stinging hands on her knees.

Beca's gaze flashed up to the man who was standing on the other edge of the counter- a goofy grin on his face as he adjusted the black leather strap of his over the shoulder bag. He wore a pale blue button-down that clashed with chocolate brown eyes and an edging grin.

"No um, not at all-"Beca stood, "And you are?"

This man didn't dawn a badge. Beca didn't care if he looked charming and harmless- he was still a stranger that had walked past the double paned glass doors and into the base floor of Barden's offices. That made her walls spring up almost instantly- a sharp chill moving through her.

"Jesse Swanson," He smirked, sticking out a hand with confidence. "I was told to come see a Beca Mitchell about a badge and an office."

He was beaming, if not struggling to stay upright. Even though she had just met this man, she knew he was clumsy- clumsy enough to mess with the dark camera strung around his neck and the prints tucked under his arm.

"Oh, you're that photographer guy!" Jessica said excitedly, her lips parting as Beca turned her head and gave the girl a curved eyebrow. She sunk into her seat nervously but still turned her attention back to Jesse. "Is it true, you know Superman?"

He blew a puff of breath out of his nose as he gave her a charming smirk. Something told Beca that he was always this playful with his words. "I've taken his picture a few times. He's posed for a few of them."

"Whoa, that is so cool" Jessica gasped, mouth agape. Beca wrapped her touch around the plastic badge that showed a chiseled jaw of Jesse himself. She cleared her throat, lifting the picture ID up.

She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I'll show you to your office, Mr. Swanson."

He faltered at the serious tone she took, stepping from behind the desk as she didn't wait for him to catch his thoughts. Instead, she kept walking, shoes echoing against the quiet lobby as Jessica leaned back in her chair once more and started to pay attention to the monitors again.

They walked past a silver set of elevators until they reached the other end of the lobby, two more elevators were carved into stone as she turned and shoved her hands into her pockets. "These are the staff elevators. You can use these, and the stairs, but never that front elevator up there. That is reserved for Gail, and Gail only."

"Gail?" Jesse pushed the button to the lift, letting a blue light reflecting off the floor.

"Gail Abernathy," Beca lifted her eyebrows with a slight smirk. "The woman who hired you?"

"Oh, she didn't hire me," He said, "I don't know who did… all I know is that I was asked to show up at Barden. I don't even live in National City, but I traded it all for an office with a view."

"Daring," She said as the elevator dinged, opening up to its silver interior as she let Jesse press his back against the side wall, staring Beca down. She wasn't dressed like a normal security guard- instead, she dawned dark jeans and a black V-neck. Her own badge was clipped to a belt loop as she stood with slack. "What about your old job?"

"I was freelancing," he explained carefully "Not a PI or anything like that but being Superman's right-hand guy is okay when you don't actually live in Metropolis. He kind of pushed me to take the job."

"Right," Beca deadpanned, still with an amused expression on her face as she stared at the slowly climbing numbers.

"That's the second time you've done that."

"Done what?"

"Haven't reacted."

She stared his way, knitting her eyebrows together as she parted her lips. She didn't exactly know how to respond to his words, not when he stared at her expectantly. He had a wonderment in golden eyes that could only be described as childish but innocent.

"Do people usually swoon when you talk about the man in red and blue spandex?"

Instead of waiting for an answer Beca exited the elevator, turning around to see if Jesse was following her. He was. She walked past most of the employees sitting at those obnoxious glass desks, not looking up at the sound of the doors opening and closing. This place, the pit, was always fuming with reporters and editors trying to do the best that they could to please Gail. To keep the news flowing.

Chloe glanced up from her own desk, meeting midnight blue eyes with a small smile as Beca returned it- knowing that the girl had memos to send, a lot of work to get through. She bit the edge of her pen between her lips. She was chewing on it, eyebrows creasing.

Beca pulled open a glass door to one of the offices- it was empty but was different from the other ones. There was a large table, and places to hand new prints- and in fact, a very good view from the windows that pressed against the far wall.

"Holy shit," Jesse said, leaning his prints up against the wall as he looked around in awe.

Beca stood back, smiling at the aloof expression on Jesse's face. "An office with a view."


	4. Chapter Four

**BECA GLARED**  at her drink under the lowered lights of the bar. The color a deep unforgiving amber that was frothed with a layer of bubbles along the edge. It wasn't that she hated the brand of beer or even the mostly dirty glass that it settled in. She just didn't want to look anywhere else. If she looked anywhere but her drink- then it would break the illusion.

The illusion that Chloe Beale wasn't across the restaurant with some sleazy guy who couldn't keep his dark eyes away from his phone screen. The young office assistant deserved more than that. More than the attention span of some half-wit that thought he had better things to do. And sure, maybe that was a stretch. But Beca also had a bit of a buzz herself. Hence her angry stare.

"Come on, Bec's," Stacie begged beside her, still in her dark blue blouse. It brought out her grey eyes, she had shoved her badge for L-Corp into her wallet at this point, knowing that it wasn't exactly a badge that screamed date me. Even though, Beca had no contest to that- if someone couldn't handle her brilliance, then they weren't worth more than a one-night stand if that. "I didn't know she would be here."

"Are you trying to use the force?" Amy asked from her left, raising her own glass of fruity drink to her lips. It had an unnatural neon pink color that probably wasn't even legally ingestible. Yet, it didn't' seem to rock the blonde, not even when she had enough to test her alcohol limit. Stacie slammed her hand into the woman's shoulder- earning a grunt. "What? I'm not judging, anyone can be a Jedi, including tiny here."

Beca let out a dark groan shoving her beer out of the way as she slammed her head against the glass bar. It was lit up with a shining blue light. The whole entire place called aqua for obvious reasons. They served good drinks and even better mozzarella sticks. Beca wanted about four orders of them at this point and a good pint of ice cream. The kind with the peanut butter in it.

"Does she look like she's having fun?" She mumbled.

"Ginger spice?" Amy lifted a perfect brow, turning a bit in her seat- it earned another hit in the arm, snapping her stare back to the woman who finally sat up, looking at something other than the floor and the untouched drink. "Ow! What?"

_"Don't look."_

"Then how am I supposed to tell you if she looks happy or not?"

"She doesn't," Stacie answered coolly. It was almost like a trap like Beca had sulked out of a dressing room and asked if a dress made her look fat. Instead, it was about the well-being of a woman she had been pining over silently for the past year. One that was on a date. Like she had a nerve of steel like she should know about the tiny security guard who admired her from afar. "Hey, John!"

The bartender shifted his attention, in the middle of pouring a bourbon for a man who looked like he was having a worse night than Beca. He had gotten used to the three girls standing near the counter, not so used to the smallest of the three sulking like this. But he figured it was good business. A bad night in life could turn into a good profit later.

"Can you turn that up?" Stacie's venomous grey stare flicked towards the large television that hung above the multiple rows of alcohol that was far too expensive for the girls, all of them have way too many student loans, or even wracked up credit debt. But Beca momentarily forgot about all of that.

She sat back in the leather studded chair, letting her hand fall down as it lay flat on the lit-up counter. She was used to seeing so many monitors up in Gail's office, but when something big like this happened- when the news cut through all the sports games and talent shoes, it was never easier. It was gut-wrenching an painful. Even now, so far from work, and that large building.

John parted his lips slightly as he raised the plastic remote towards the monitor. Hitting the volume button until half the bar tapered off in their drunken conversation. It was one of those moments, one of those times where the world stopped for a few seconds before it exploded in hushed whispers of the pending tragedy.

"Flight 1501 headed towards Geneva is experiencing some engine difficulties." The monotone caster spoke evenly. His job was to put a mournful look on his face and act like everything was okay all while panned shots of the plane flooded media from phones being aimed at the flaming pile of mass in National Cities skies. "One propeller has blown and there is no word from the piolet. We're lead to believe that an emergency landing is out of the question."

"Shit," Amy lowered herself into the seat next to the younger girl, Beca had shifted her attention from the screen to behind her. Part of her didn't' care if Chloe saw her at this point, it didn't' matter much. There was a certain stillness in the air and her pending anxieties about two random co-workers bumping into each other on a date.

What she saw made her stomach churn. The man that was supposed to be giving the girl her undivided attention was probably scanning twitter for the latest news instead of paying mind to the shattered expression that took over Chloe's perfectly sculpted features. It was undeniable fear and twisted guilt. Something that the woman had never possessed in the office. It ate away at Beca, watching the young woman apologize to a man who wasn't even listening.

He waved her off as she gathered her bag and started to push past the crowd of people that were flocking towards the television. Beca drew in a careful breath, reaching into her wallet as she pulled out a twenty and shoved away from the bar- earning a light grasp on her arm as Stacie pulled her lips close to her ear. "Where are you going?"

"I have to check on her," Beca skillfully shoved her friend's worried glance to the back of her mind as she grasped her leather jacket from the back of the chair before politely moving through the crowd herself. It smelled salty, and of alcohol, the atmosphere quickly broken as she stumbled into the alley that housed the establishment.

Rain was just beginning to fall, the pavement hot and sticky as steam rose up from sewer grates. Traffic was far off in the distance, roads mostly shut down at this point. Beca could make out angry honks from passive aggressive drivers. Her own breath was threatening to show in the air as she glanced around for Chloe, any sign of the young assistant in the menacing alleyway.

There was none.

There was a long and earth-shattering buzz that cut through the silence of her breathing. Beca cursing under her tone as she reached for her cell phone. She didn't bother looking at the contact, instead, she pressed it against her ear. It pulled her from her little bubble, the girl not even sure how long she stood there in the desolate part of the city. Not sure where to go, or who to turn to. Her worry for Chloe president over all else.

"Hello?" She asked, shocked by the loudness of her own voice.

"Get to the office, now." Gail's voice was sharp.

"What?" Beca knit her eyebrows together, shaking away the fog in her mind. "Is everything okay? Was there a break in?"

She kept her pager on her at all times in case there was one, but there was radio silence from that end. She had a few night guards that could probably take care of whatever the president of Barden was chiding about. But her voice sounded urgent, upset.

"Just get here, Beca." She said, exhausted. No doubt, when you run a news company and something like this breaks, it's enough to set the whole world into a tailspin. Something the brunette didn't want to enter head on. "It's an emergency."

 **THE RAIN**  had only grown stronger by the time Beca had made the long trek from the bar up to the woman's office. Her feet were cold, her socks sloshing in her boots- but the chill of the drops had sobered her up as much as could be done. No, she wasn't completely hammered upon leaving Aqua, but she felt something different. A dizzying emotion that made her feel like she was floating, even when passing Chloe's empty desk.

She didn't' know the girl well enough to read her the way that she had. To get a handle on exactly why she had rushed out of the bar and seemingly vanished at the sight of the plane. Did she hate airlines? Was someone close to her on that very flight? Beca could assume that latter, but she seemed to do that a lot lately. Assume things about Chloe that weren't true until proven.

Like the subtle touches, and warm smiles. She was a friendly girl. For all Beca knew, it meant nothing. The ice packs that were generously handed over in a shared silence for the past two years could just be the common courtesy of a naive young assistant to the most powerful media mogul in the city.

The office was bustling with activity, phones ringing off the hook- a few people so engrossed in the work that they forgot to look where they were going. Beca had enough sense to dodge all of them- tapping her knuckles lightly on the glass door to catch Gails attention. She had been in this office a lot more lately. The woman waved her in as she finished up her conversation with the new guy. Jesse.

He looked scared shitless.

The photographer had paled significantly. He wasn't as confident as he was the other day in the elevator. Instead, he stood nervously and small; his hands tugging at the hem of his long-sleeved shirt like he was a child ask to recite the pledge in front of an auditorium before some boring assembly.

Beca had to fight back a sly smile. She almost felt bad for the guy, someone she found with an arrogant edge due to his immediate association to a caped crusader from Metropolis. Someone the girl had despised from almost the start. It wasn't that she hated superhero's, it was more like a yearning. One she had swallowed down for the longest time at this point- never once giving into the temptation due to the fear.

Jesse gulped down his pride and cleared the room the second Beca caught the blonde demon's attention. He mouthed something along the lines of "good luck" before shutting the door behind him. It engulfed them in an eerie silence- Beca's own midnight stare looking past the woman as she stared up at the many screens, each holding a different aspect of the plane. The plane that had miraculously landed in the river, taking half of National City's bridge with it.

There was one image that caught her attention, though, all the other outlets seeming slow to find it compared to the one that bared Barden's signature logo in the corner. It was a girl, one with striking features- a woman standing on the wing of the plane in the spotlight of a rescue helicopter. Her clothes were soaked, and her features were shaded, stare trained and squinted. She almost looked angelic- droplets of water forming on her skin under the mercy of the lights.

"Who is she?" Beca asked simply, taking a step closer as she crossed her arms over her chest, not budging as Gail shifted her attention to the monitor. She remained sitting, her own amusement mixed with what seemed like anger.

"That's a fair question," Gail spoke softly, shifting to face the bulk of her office once more. "Witnesses say that she single handily guided the plane into the river."

"A piolet?" Beca mused, blinking. She hadn't in a few moments, eyes burning from the overexposed time. She could still see the picture clearly in her mind.

"Oh, not even you're that naive, Beca." She said.

"I suppose not." Beca responded.

She wasn't. She knew exactly what Gail was implying. There was no way that something, someone, human could pull off a stunt like that unless they were in it for the fame. The way this stranger had fled the scene so quickly lead everyone to believe that it wasn't like that- not at all. There was an impending question in the air, one that made Beca regret that extra beer she had a few moments earlier.

"Rebeca,"

"I don't know." She spoke curtly, cutting straight the point as she drew in a breath. Gail lifted a brow at the tone, somewhat amused by the action. "I'm sorry, but there's no logical way for me to tell without having contact with this person."

"Would you be able to tell, even if you were in the same room as her?"

"I don't…" she stopped herself from sounding repetitive. "Maybe at one point I would have been able to, I think. But it's been years since I've even tapped into it, Aunt Gail, I don't know what I can do anymore."

The woman nodded with understanding, at least that's what Beca thought it was. It might not have been, possibly a way to just speed up the conversation to get to the point. This newcomer in National City. Gail didn't' want to talk about their past, something she had worked hard to keep buried, to keep a secret from the public eye. It made Beca wonder why this stranger had chosen now to reveal herself. Was it just a one-time incident?

"She could be Kryptonian." Beca offered quickly, taking a small step back, exhausted from the conversations that she always seemed to have in this office.

"What makes you say that?" She asked.

"She's strong, she doesn't seem to have a grip on whatever she stumbled into." Beca stilled her stance. "Something tells me she's lost."


End file.
